Mack's Memo • Intuitive Public Radio
Mack's Memo • Intuitive Public Radio Podcast
Day 28; Fir

Day 28; Fir

A daily of 11 November 2023

For another project, recently, I’ve been doing some deepening research about the symbology and etymology of fir trees.

As I’ve continued my spelunking in this beloved bibliaugury, I'm here to rapport back my findings.

I was surrounded by fir trees as a kid and for some time as I was growing up.

The street I lived on when I was little was called Evergreen Drive.

The house I lived in was surrounded by different kinds of evergreens — firs and pines and maybe spruces too, but I have never gotten a steady understanding of which is which, only that I love them and feel safe around them.

When I had the sudden desire to look up the etymology of "fir," I felt sparks about having gravitated toward it.

Etymology Online has some great touch-points for me. There are references specifically to oaks and mountains, including references to "mountain forests."

Oaks are trees I am particularly familiar with in the study of Druidry, connected with my family ancestry.

The relationship between oaks and firs in the etymology is really intriguing to me, too; the discussion of how fir trees gradually displaced oak trees in northern European forests, and how the words relate to one another that way.

And although I didn't exactly grow up on a mountaintop, my first home was near the crest of an extremely high and steep hill in a generally mountainous region, in Pittsburgh's Allegheny Mountains. (It felt like a mountaintop to me!)

Here's the Etymology Online link:

Then I looked at Etymologeek.

A little ways down the page, it references the Romanian "fir"; a hair, thread, string, filament, wire. To me in certain ways this says — a connector, that which may connect or tie together.

Further down at the bottom of the page at Etymologeek, it references the Catalan — Fair, it says. Community gathering.

Community gathering, very dear to my heart, and very connected (tied to) my feeling of safety amidst evergreens, where my extended family and community would come together to celebrate important occasions when I was very small.

Here's the page at Etymologeek:

That same page mentions the Luxembourgish "for" — which I take to mean "for one another"; "for good"; "for" as in the function of indicating purpose, intended goal (from Merriam-Webster).

I also notice that "fir" feels resonant to me with "fire" — the fire of life energy, the fire we gather around for warmth — and "friend," which has some similarity too.

I also find my mouth forming the word "free" as in "freedom" at the same time.

In memories I have and other sources I found, Fir trees indicate true relationality and the qualities of life-long interrelationship; endurance; surviving harsh experiences together and re-emerging with strength.

A fir grows “on the straight and narrow”; in Celtic and Druidic traditions, it can symbolize truth, honesty, forthrightness.

I have seen firs associated with a life spark’s persistence through a long winter; resilience and longevity; with renewal, with hopefulness.

A group of fir trees may invoke qualities of friendship; an evergreen, life-long interrelationship.

Fir trees endure adverse conditions, challenging weather, and substandard soils.

The deeper I went into this exploration, the more I was moved to continue it.

There are key lessons here for me and for my communities at this time, when so many are struggling in hardship, and when so many have become disconnected from lasting and nutritive relationships.

There are so many parts of this that feel powerfully activated for me, I can barely manage to put it down.

What’s all this mean?

What all this for?

The world around us teaches us things. Every experience we have, every perception, every element of our encounters, it’s all the Oracle. And fir trees came to me recently this way — through the Oracle.

When we find connective intersections of meaning, we are experiencing sigil-ing. We are part of movements and forms of the world; we are part of the writing (wright-ing, rite-ing, right-ing) of the material of the body of the universe.

Our experiences are being written into matter, whether or not we notice. Written into our bodies, yes, and also written into the whole world our bodies are interconnected with.

The most meaningful writing, in this regard, is where powerful relationships resonate and keep us tuned to the frequencies of our truest selves and authentic unfoldings.

I notice that this exploration into fir tree symbology connects me to many of my most important ideas — a place I want to anchor, and a place that feels deeply familiar to me even though I happened upon it unexpectedly.

What’s the Intuitive network for (fir)?

What are our loving relationships and community connectednesses for (fir)?

What life fire travels through us, suffuses us with living vitality, keeps whatever season we’re in bright and wakeful, roots us with one another?

How do we best persist through times of weariness and harshness?

What friendships and relationships have longevity?

What does it mean to gather in relational integrity with one another?

What ties us to one another?

How are we most truthful and forthright?

How do we strengthen our resilience together, and our ability to endure the most difficult of experiences?

What’s most important — what do we prioritize firstly?

Where do we find renewal?

This has been my process through the morning.

My gratitude to fir trees.